


Not Without You

by Brenda



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: At Least They're Together, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Quote: I'm with you 'til the end of the line, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/pseuds/Brenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He doesn’t hear Bucky move closer, but he can feel the way the air around him finally settles.  Gravity pulling him closer until he's back where he belongs.  A moon orbiting around Bucky’s sun.  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Then smooth metal fingers drift along the back of Steve’s hand.  The voices in his head grow silent.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"I’m all ears if you gotta viable way out of this," Bucky softly says, "but we both know I’m not gonna make it before I –"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in a shorter, rougher form on Tumblr.

By the time Steve figures out they'd walked into a trap – that the entire mission had just been a cover to separate him and Bucky from the rest of the team – it's far too late.

Their comms short out in a crackling, high-pierced burst of noise.  Then the door to the chamber slides shut with a dull thud.  The sound soft, but final.  Steve quells the burst of panic in his gut and tries to think.  There has to be something he’s missed.  Something he and Bucky’ve both missed.  Some way to get in touch with the team, some way to get out, get Bucky to safety before –

This can’t be – there has to be a way.  There _has_ to be.

The walls and floor are too thick and reinforced to bust their way out or even shoot their way out.  There aren’t any hinges on the door to use as leverage, no ventilation system to exploit, no paneling and way to get into the wiring.  The only light source is a single bulb too high overhead to get to, and reinforced with an alloy or metal casing.  No windows, either, to break, and no furnishings of any kind.  He and Bucky only have two handguns between them, no rifle, no grenades, no other weapons, not even his shield.  Not even Bucky's knife.  

And even assuming they could bust out of the room or the facility, there was still the small matter of the trigger currently working its way through –

"Steve."

He can’t look at Bucky.  He knows exactly the look he’ll see if he does, and he’s not ready yet.  He’s not –

" _Steve_ ," Bucky repeats, low.  Insistent.  "Look at me."

"Don’t," Steve pleads, his voice breaking on the word.  How is it possible for him to still be standing when every atom in his body is shattering to pieces?  How can he come up with a plan when he can't even think past the roaring in his ears and his heart?  "Please don’t make me do this."

He doesn’t hear Bucky move closer, but he can feel the way the air around him finally settles.  Gravity pulling him closer until he's back where he belongs.  A moon orbiting around Bucky’s sun.  

Then smooth metal fingers drift along the back of Steve’s hand.  The voices in his head grow silent.

"I’m all ears if you gotta viable way out of this," Bucky softly says, "but we both know I’m not gonna make it before I –"

Steve jerks out a nod.  Breathes deep and finds the courage to look up.  Bucky still looks the same – the angles and planes of his face are still achingly familiar: the square line of his jaw, the deep set of his eyes, the soft curve of his lips.  Bucky’s still looking at Steve the same way he always has – with a fierce and terrible devotion that is the lifeblood coursing through Steve’s veins. 

Bucky’s still _himself_ ; but they both know he won’t be for long.

"I know," Steve finally says.  He’s run all the scenarios and calculations in his head twice over.  Knows Bucky’s done the same.  There is no way out of this.  Not in time for it to matter.

"I’m not letting them take me again, Steve.  I can’t –"

Steve glances down at the gun in his hand, then up at Bucky.  Bucky, his bright, beautiful sun, still resisting, still fighting.  And resolve steels Steve's spine, hardens his voice.  "I won’t let them.  You're not theirs to take."

"They can’t have you, either.  You know what they’ll do if they get their hands on the serum –"

Steve just smiles, all teeth and grim pleasure, and replies: "Fuck no.  I’m _yours_.  Always have been.  They don't _get_ to have me."

Bucky sets his shoulders into a straight line and nods, satisfaction and something even more primitive pouring out of him.  He looks radiant right now.  Celestial.  "So how do you want to do this?"

He asks like he already knows the answer.  Like he’s just waiting for Steve to confirm.  Steve is more than happy to give it to him.

"Together.  Like we’ve always done."

"Where you go, I go," Bucky says, and nods.

Then he reels Steve in for a full-bodied, bruising kiss.  It's a messy, frantic meeting of teeth and tongues, hard and hot, and _this_ is the taste Steve wants to die with in his mouth.  The mixture of blood and gun oil and that elusive sharp brightness under it that’s all Bucky.

"You _promise_ me you’ll find me." Bucky's whisper is low and fierce, not so much a plea as a declaration.  A warning Steve takes to heart.

He cups Bucky’s cheek, rubs a thumb across rough skin, memorizes it anew.  He wishes they had more time.  "You are never getting rid of me," he promises.  "Not in this life or the next or all the ones after.   _Tol'ko ty_ , Buck. _Navsegda_."

" _Navsegda_ ," Bucky repeats, quiet and sure, his eyes shining with unshed tears.  "I’m holding you to it."

Their lips meet again, softer now, slower.  Both of them taking this precious, fragile moment, spinning it out as long as they can.  Breaths and tears and quiet murmurs and sighs melting together, smearing between them like oils on a canvas.

"Ready?" Bucky asks, in the space between heartbeats, lips still so close Steve can feel the word against his own.

Steve nods.  Raises the barrel of his gun to Bucky’s temple.  Feels the cool press of metal on his skin as Bucky does the same, raises his own gun to the side of Steve's head.

Bucky’s eyes, rock steady and the only anchor Steve's ever needed, stay on his.  The look, part loyalty part love and all possessive devotion, unchanged.  He's still Bucky; still _Steve’s_.  

"You _find_ me, Steve," Bucky whispers, and it's an order this time.  A vow.

"I’ll be right beside you the whole way."  No matter what happens next, he’s not facing any of it without Bucky at his side, right where he belongs.

They bring their free hands together, flesh to flesh, and Bucky gives a slight nod.  As one, they start to count:

_The suffocating smell of camphor and liniment; a cool compress against his brow_  
_Bucky’s crooked grin, wide and gap-toothed and filled with mischief_  
_His mother’s Irish stew, the lilting sound of her voice_

"Three"

 _Bucky biting his lip the first time they'd kissed, the way the blood had smeared between them like a vow_  
_Peggy’s smile and the way his name sounded on her lips, like a promise, like a dare_  
_His mother’s arms around him rocking him to sleep, safety and comfort and love_

"Two"

 _Bucky inside him, full and thick, the burn exquisite, as they move together_  
_Bucky’s laughter in his ear, breathless and light, a symphony of sound all on its own_  
_Bucky’s eyes, endless and blue and containing all of the colors of the world, the only light he’s ever needed_

"One –"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can come yell at me on [Tumblr](brendaonao3.tumblr.com).


End file.
